


Confrontation Time

by LoserxLoser



Series: Families Shatter Like Glass [5]
Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: AU, Angst, Family Feels, Gen, Karma and Gakushuu are brothers, Mostly Canon Compliant, Neglect, Sibling Rivalry, Some differences though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:34:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27193835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoserxLoser/pseuds/LoserxLoser
Summary: Karma thinks he would rather die than discuss his feelings.
Relationships: Akabane Karma & Asano Gakuhou, Akabane Karma & Asano Gakushuu
Series: Families Shatter Like Glass [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/851346
Comments: 66
Kudos: 228





	1. Gakushuu Time

**Author's Note:**

> Omg guys did you think we'd ever get here? I sure didn't. THE FIFTH FIC GUYS. THE FIFTH ONE. THE CONCLUSION. THE DRAMATIC FINISH. THE FINALE. ASDFFGHJKL
> 
> I started this series in 2017. I hadn't written fanfic since my wattpad days (don't ask. please) and I was terrified of starting a huge project like this. But you guys have been so amazing and supportive and so patient (way more than I deserved!) So this fic is officially dedicated to all my readers, new and old, and I hope you enjoy it! I couldn't have made it here without you guys.
> 
> Blegh, enough sap. Anyway! This is a five part fic and should update monthly. Enjoy!
> 
> I DO NOT OWN ASSASSINATION CLASSROOM  
> THESE IDEAS ARE MY OWN  
> PLEASE COMMENT AND LEAVE KUDOS :D  
> THANKS FOR READING!

The day the cultural festival results are posted is the day everything falls apart.

It begins as it has since the sports festival: Karma waiting at the old playground for Gakushuu to show up so they can walk towards the station together. As he waits, he plays some mindless battle game he can’t remember buying on his Nintendo. His stepfather probably bought it and planted it in Karma’s bag. What a weirdo.

He only gets through a few levels before he sees Gakushuu approaching. Powering off the game console, he tosses it in his bag and lifts a hand in greeting.

“Hey,” Karma says. “Congratulations on your big win.”

“Thanks,” says Gakushuu, somewhat absently. He doesn’t stop walking, just continues past Karma on the sidewalk. 

Karma hurries after him. Falling into step at his side, he can’t help but glance over at his brother, worried. They don’t usually talk much during these walks, but it’s unlike Gakushuu to look so pensive. Brooding is usually more Karma’s thing.  _ What are you thinking about?  _ he wonders.  _ You led your class to victory once again, why do you still look so dissatisfied?  _

So caught up in his thoughts, Karma doesn’t notice they’ve reached the station until he almost walks right past it. Startled, he stops, but Gakushuu doesn’t. His brother continues his steady pace down the street, completely ignoring their supposed destination. 

“Gakushuu, that’s the wrong way!” he calls out.

“We’re not going to the station,” he replies over his shoulder.

Karma blinks, even more startled than before. “Huh?”

“Hurry up,” Gakushuu commands. He’s still walking, not even throwing a backwards glance behind him, clearly convinced Karma will obey.

For a moment, Karma wants to refuse. He wants to ignore Gakushuu’s imperious order and continue on his own way home, for no other reason than to be contrary.  _ I’m not your lackey,  _ he wants to shout.  _ I’m your brother, not one of your simpering dogs. You can’t expect me to come to heel just because you say so. _

He eyes the entrance to the station. He can ignore Gakushuu; he is under no obligation to follow him. As he watches his brother move further and further away, though, he realizes that, to his consternation, while he might not  _ have  _ to follow his brother, he still wants to.  _ Something’s up with him, and I want to know what. _

Sighing heavily, he jogs after his brother.

“Where are we going?” he asks once he catches up.

“I’m hungry,” Gakushuu says flatly. “We’re getting something to eat.”

“Okaaaay. . .” Karma drawls, glancing over out of the corner of his eye. Gakushuu is still frowning, deep in thought - his eyebrows dangerously furrowed. The contemplative expression on his face looks vaguely familiar.  _ Where have I seen that look before?  _

Suddenly, he remembers. The frustrated, confused expression on his brother’s face is the same one he wore just before the sport’s festival when he asked Karma why he wanted Gakushuu to overlook Isogai’s violation of school regulations.  _ Is this how you look when you don’t understand something?  _ he wonders, somewhat amused.  _ Interesting. I wonder what you’re trying to figure out now.  _

_ Well, I think I’ll find out soon enough.  _

* * *

“What is it?”

“Hm?” Gakushuu says absently, still lost in thought.

They decided on a small cafe (not Isogai’s, thankfully) to eat at. Karma ordered only a strawberry and vanilla Italian soda since he would be eating dinner at home in only a few short hours. For all his claims of being hungry, Gakushuu also ordered only a drink (black coffee, which Karma wrinkles his nose at). Having already received their drinks, they sit across from each other, only now breaking the silence. 

Karma rolls his eyes, propping his elbow on the table and resting his chin in his hand. “What are you thinking about? Your forehead is all wrinkly. You look like an old man,” he teases.

Gakushuu’s fingers are clenched tightly around his cup; if he squeezes any harder it will break. “If I tell you,” he says, staring deep into the murky liquid, “we’re going to fight.”

Karma hums absentmindedly, swirling his straw around in his drink, watching the colors intermingle. “Probably,” he agrees. “But tell me anyway.”

_ This cease-fire couldn’t last forever. We both knew that. No matter how nice it’s been, we can’t ignore the elephant in the room any longer. Oh, what’s that saying Bitch-sensei taught us? Grab the bull by the horns? Yes, it’s time to do just that. _

Gakushuu frowns at him from across the table, still considering. Karma waits. Finally, his brother blurts out, “Why do you not want to come back to-” he stumbles for a brief moment, but recovers so quickly Karma almost misses it. “-to Class A?”

His hand freezes mid motion, straw falling against the rim of his glass. “Huh?”

_ That’s. . . not what I was expecting. Really, that’s what you want to ask? That’s the most pressing question on your mind? Honestly, Gakushuu, what is wrong with your priorities? They’re all out of whack. _

“I’ve tried to figure it out again and again, but I still don’t understand. At first, I thought you were just being stubborn, but then all those strange things kept happening with Class E, so I thought maybe you staying had something to do with what they’re hiding.”

“Is that why you tried to blackmail me into telling you?” he asks, somewhat surprised. 

“Yeah, mostly,” his brother admits. “I wanted to hold it over  _ otou-san’s  _ head too, of course, but it was mainly about you. I thought if I knew why you insisted on staying, I could figure out a way to get you back.”

“You want me back in your class of minions that badly?” Karma scoffs. “No thanks. I’m not about to be your yes-man.”

“That’s not why,” Gakushuu rebuts sharply. 

“Oh, yeah? Then why? You want me to take my rightful place with the elites?” he mocks. “To lord over everyone weaker than me with that high-minded attitude you all love? Or do you just hate that I slipped your leash, that the only person who can rival you is a Class E  _ bottomfeeder _ ?”

With that last taunt, Gakushuu snaps.

“No!” he shouts, shooting abruptly to his feet, fist slamming down onto the table. Their cups rattle alarmingly. His brother glares down at him, palms pressed flat against the table, shoulders trembling. After a second, Gakushuu blinks, as if startled by his own reaction. He sends an apologetic smile to their fellow customers, who have all fallen silent at his outburst, offering a charming  _ please forgive me. _

Karma sighs as he rises to his feet. Laying down enough money to cover their tab, he grabs hold of Gakushuu’s wrist and yanks him from the booth, dragging him from the restaurant.

“Hey!” Gakushuu protests.

“Shut up,” Karma replies evenly. “You want to have this conversation? Well, apparently we can’t have it in public, so come on.”

Gakushuu doesn’t try to argue further so Karma drops his wrist, trusting his brother will follow him. He guides them down sidewalks, through alleys, and across intersections - mainly just to increase the distance between them and Kunugigaoka, though he also figures it would be best to have this discussion in a secluded spot. Who knows how long they’ll yell at each other? Best to be on the safe side.

Finally, they reach a relatively quiet park. Unlike their usual meeting place, this one lacks any playground equipment, though it makes up for it in the abundance of trees and walking trails. The leaves are still green, though not for long. The trees will lose their leaves soon, and this park’s trails will be buried under golden and rust-colored foliage. 

He sees only a few people milling around, enjoying the last few weeks of green, so he leads Gakushuu to a small cluster of trees. Tossing his bag on the ground, he spares a brief moment to wonder why all their conversations have to occur in a park.  _ Well, it is kind of difficult to find privacy in the city. It was either this or take Gakushuu home with me, and I have a feeling that would be a bad idea. For now, anyway. _

“Okay,” he says. “This should be fine.” Turning back to his brother, he tilts his head, the corner of his mouth curving upwards. “Now, where were we? Oh, right, right, you were about to rehash your favorite reasons for why Karma is an idiot for staying in Class E and why he’d be so much happier as one of your loyal subjects. Please continue,  _ ou-sama,”  _ he says, offering a mockery of a bow.

Gakushuu’s eyes, which had softened during their little journey, freeze over. “Is that what you think this is about?” he asks, his voice low and deadly calm. 

“What else?”

“What else, indeed,” he murmurs, shaking his head in disbelief. “Of course,” he continues, sarcasm dripping from his every word, “what else could I possibly want with you? My only concern has and always will be how to get you back in Class A. All this time, I was only after claiming your academic strength for myself. Congratulations, Karma, you’ve found me out. ”

Ire quickly replaces the last of Karma’s good humor. “What is it, then?” he snaps back. “Why else have you been hounding me about this all year? Why is it so important to you for me to be in Class A?”

“Class A, Class A, Class A,” Gakushuu growls. “Enough already! Don’t you get it? I don't care about you being in Class A!” he yells, breaking the still tranquility of the park without a second thought. Karma steps back, stunned, but his brother isn’t finished. “That was never the point! Do whatever you want, just. . ."

"Just what?!"

"Just don't leave me again!" Gakushuu shouts, his glare trying and failing to hide the faint gleam of tears.  


Karma stares, speechless, the breath sucked from his lungs. He can’t remember a single time in his life where he’s seen Gakushuu cry. His brother rarely even raises his voice; he’s the very definition of calm and collected, even under intense pressure. This display of emotion - real, honest, fervent emotion - is so utterly out of character Karma can only watch, eyes blown wide in shock.

"How do you think I’ve felt all these years?” his brother asks. “Do you know what it’s like to walk around that empty house, to sleep in our old room by myself? It’s so quiet I feel like I’ll go crazy half the time! For so long, I’d turn to tell you something and you wouldn’t be there. And  _ okaa-san- _ ” here his voice breaks. Gakushuu swallows hard, and Karma knows he’s fighting desperately to suppress the tears threatening to escape.

_ Oh,  _ Karma realizes.  _ He doesn’t know. I never told him how she fell apart after the divorce - how she shut down and ran away. He only has his memories of her when she was still a good mom. Otou-san was always so distant with me, I barely have any pleasant memories of him. I never really had a father until oyaji. So when I only lost Gakushuu, he lost both me and okaa-san. All he had. . .  _

Karma heart plummets. 

_ All he had was otou-san - unfeeling, overbearing, manipulative otou-san. What a nightmare. _

Gakushuu continues. “After the divorce, you and  _ okaa-san  _ just vanished! I spent three years wondering where you were, if you were okay, if you missed me at all, and then you show up out of the blue and I don't even recognize you!” His rage, which had burned so brightly only moments before, cools abruptly. “You. . . you're a complete stranger,” he whispers, confusion and helplessness rolling off him in waves. “That day when I saw you for the first time, you acted like you didn't know me. But that was wrong. I didn't know you. I still don't. It's like there's this incredible distance between us, and I don't know how to cross it! And you. . . it's like you don't even  _ want _ to. I think that's the scariest thing. I spent eight years of my life taking care of you, and three more worrying about you, and then you were back and you didn't need me anymore. Worse, you didn't want me. You were my best friend, Karma,” he says softly,  _ pleadingly _ . “You were my only equal. I don't care if you come back to Class A. I just want you to come back to me."

Karma doesn’t know what to do with this sudden outpour of emotion - from Gakushuu, of all people. It feels like the ground he’s been standing on has been yanked out from beneath him, and now he’s struggling to find his balance again. How is he supposed to reconcile this revelation with what he knows about his brother?

Well, what he thought he knew. 

Suddenly, the cease-fire, with all its unspoken rules of  _ don’t ask, don’t share, nothing’s wrong  _ seems incredibly attractive. Why had he allowed Gakushuu to break it? He’d thought he was prepared for whatever truths this conversation stirred up, but he was wrong. He’d been so, so wrong.

So, as per usual, he evades.

He manages a shaky smirk, avoiding Gakushuu’s eyes. “Wow,  _ onii-chan,  _ you’re just as selfish as ever.” The words taste like acid as he drawls them out, but he thinks if he tried to say anything sweeter he’d crumble completely. 

“Don’t,” Gakushuu warns, voice like steel. “Don’t brush me off like you have a million times before. I might not have much credit with you, Karma, but I think I’ve earned a little honesty by now.”

His smirk melts away into clenched teeth. “Honesty?” he repeats, chuckling lowly at first, then full-on shoulder-shaking laughter. “You want honesty?” Karma shouts, spreading his arms wide in the air. “Fine! I spent my whole life looking up to you, depending on you, knowing without a shadow of a doubt you were better than me!  _ Otou-san  _ knew it,  _ okaa-san  _ knew it, and you knew it too! Do you know what that’s like? To feel so weak, so  _ inferior,  _ and not knowing how to fix it? I spent years  _ hating _ myself!” 

Tears burn in his eyes, and he doesn’t try to hide them. He’s being honest with his brother - perhaps for the first time. If Gakushuu can bare his soul without a second thought, then Karma will do the same. After all, he always has wanted to be just like his big brother. 

"I spent so many years trying to hate you,” he confesses, “ _ wanting  _ to hate you. And sometimes, I did. But. . . what I really wanted was to be just like you. I never wanted to kick you off your stage, Gakushuu, I wanted to stand up there with you. I just thought I never could. But that was wrong,” he admits, hands falling to his sides. “I was wrong. I’m not inferior to you,  _ aniki.  _ I never was. Class E taught me that. My teachers taught me that. My friends taught me that. And I’m tired of hating you.”

Silence reigns in the park, broken only by the whistle of the wind through the trees. If Karma was shocked by Gakushuu’s outburst, his brother looks gobsmacked at his.

Gakushuu bites his lip before quietly admitting, “I didn’t know you felt that way. I knew you wanted to prove yourself, but I never guessed. . .” He presses his lips together in a thin white line. “I’ve told you this before, but I don’t think you really heard me.” He steps forward, planting both his hands firmly on Karma’s shoulders. “Karma,” he says, violet eyes meeting mercury with steady decisiveness, “I’ve never thought of you as inferior. I’ve never thought you were less than me.  _ Never,”  _ Gakushuu repeats, shaking him back and forth. “You are and always have been the only person who can challenge me - the only one I’ve ever known who can beat me. Okay?”

Karma nods, speechless.

_ He’s told me this before,  _ he remembers.  _ Not in so many words, but he told me he didn’t see me as a failure right before I transferred to Class E. Even then, he still considered me a worthy rival and not a clueless little brother desperately running after the elder. That day. . . was he really not just angry about my transfer? He said I didn’t belong there, but what did he really mean? That I don’t belong with the rejects or that I belong with him? _

_ All this time, I wondered if he missed me, if he cared that I was gone at all. I wanted to know if I mattered to him as much as he mattered to me. I guess, as long as we’re being honest. . . _

“Did. . . did you really miss me?” he asks, and if the hope he feels bleeds into his voice, well, that’s fine. 

"Of course I did,” Gakushuu says. He drops his hands from Karma’s shoulder now, but he stays within reach. “You always followed me around like a shadow, telling me how  _ cool _ I was and how  _ smart _ I was and you wanted to be just like me. And then you were gone, and I realized I needed you just as much as you needed me.”

_ Now or never.  _

“Then why didn’t you keep your promise?”

“What?”

“Why didn’t you keep your promise?” he repeats. “After the divorce, I needed you. I really, really needed you. You had always been there.  _ Always.”  _ He can’t bear to meet his brother’s eyes anymore. Dropping his gaze to his feet, he says, “And then you weren’t. You were gone. You promised you’d be there for me, Gakushuu. You promised we’d always be brothers.” It is only now the tears begin to spill over, falling down his face and dripping silently to the ground. When he speaks, his voice trembles. “You lied.” 

With his eyes still fixed on the ground, he can’t see Gakushuu’s expression, but when he speaks he sounds as if he’s just been sucker-punched. “I’m sorry,” he says, barely audible. “I’m so sorry. I tried so many times to find you. I asked  _ otou-san  _ where you were every day, but he wouldn’t tell me. He won’t even talk about you and  _ okaa-san.  _ It’s like. . .” he pauses, biting his lip, as if unsure if he wants to continue. 

Karma is suddenly overcome by the desperate need to hear this small piece of insight into his father’s life. He has wondered for years whether his departure made any impact on his father at all. Now is his chance for answers.   


“Like what?”

_ Please, aniki. I need to know. Please. I’ll be fine, I promise.  _

“It’s like he’s erased you two from his life. He boxed up all the pictures and mementos, he never talks about you, and if I try to bring it up he just shuts down.” 

Karma stands frozen in place, his thoughts whirling.  _ Did I expect something different? I don’t know. I hated him for so long, and then I tried my best to forget about him. But. . . I never really forgot, did I? Even when I was sent to Class E, there was still a part of me that desperately wanted to please him, no matter how I tried to squash it. So why does it hurt, knowing he wants to forget me? Why do I want to cry? _

_ Why do I still feel like that little boy in the backseat of a car, watching him grow smaller and smaller, desperately looking for some sign of grief, of loss, of remorse? _

“I’m sorry,” Gakushuu says, though for what Karma doesn’t know. For not trying harder to locate him? For their father’s complete inability to feel? 

Regardless, it doesn’t matter. Gakushuu has nothing to apologize for.   


“It’s not your fault,” he tells him. 

He might be stupidly overpowered, but Gakushuu had been a child the same as Karma when they were separated. Finding your estranged little brother in a big city like Tokyo was a burden too heavy for any nine-year-old boy. Karma isn’t angry at Gakushuu anymore for breaking his promise; he understands why he couldn’t keep it.  All Karma has wanted is to know that Gakushuu _tried._ That is more than enough.  Still, a wound so many years old, never allowed to heal, would take a while to scar over.

And not only for him.

“Still,” Gakushuu insists. “I should have done more. I should have reacted better when you showed up at Kunugigaoka. I shou-”

“Hey,” Karma interrupts, a smile blooming on his face. “I said it’s not your fault. It’s not like I behaved the best then, either. And. . .” he chews at his lip, struggling. Eventually, he says, “Communication is a two-way street. I could’ve reached out, but I didn’t. It’s not all on you, okay?”

Gakushuu still looks conflicted. “But I’m-”

“The big brother?” Karma cuts in again, rolling his eyes exasperatedly. “You’re one year older than me. That doesn’t make you all-knowing. Stop acting like it does or I’ll beat you up.”

Despite himself, Gakushuu laughs abruptly. Shaking his head, he seems to concede the point to Karma. Of course, he can’t let it end there, though. 

“I still know more than  _ you _ ,” he teases.

“Sure you do,  _ aniki.” Whatever helps you sleep at night,  _ he adds silently.

Without warning, a memory flashes through his mind: the two of them, standing across from each other exactly as they are now, both wearing matching scowls and crossed arms. Their mother is there too, and she stands above them with an expression both exasperated and fond. 

She kneels beside them, laying a hand on each of their shoulders, and says,  _ Are you ready to be friends again? _

Neither of them move.

_ Well,  _ she sighs, a look of exaggerated sadness on her face,  _ That’s too bad. I was going to take you two to get ice cream today, but I suppose you’re too angry at each other to enjoy it, aren’t you? _

That changes things.

_ We’re not! We’re not!  _ they cry in unison, turning towards their mother with pleading eyes, argument forgotten.

She raises a single eyebrow, waiting. They both know what she wants.

Gakushuu turns towards Karma. With his brows furrowed into a look of solemnity, he says,  _ I’m sorry for calling you a baby. _

Puffing his cheeks in annoyance, Karma mumbles,  _ I’m sorry for punching you in the face.  _

Their mother smiles brightly at them, pleased.  _ Good job! Now you have to hug or it doesn’t count. _

The brothers share twin looks of confusion, but they obey. They wrap each other in their arms without hesitation, each squeezing just a  _ tad  _ too tight. Like most things between them, hugs have become a competition - a test of strength. The first to cry uncle loses.

Of course, they can’t do that now with their mother looming above, but they still manage to cause the other just the slightest amount of discomfort. It’s enough to appease them anyway.

_ Okay!  _ their mother says, clapping her hands together.  _ Who’s ready for ice cream? _

They burst apart like shrapnel.  _ We are!  _ they shout.

She laughs, and the memory fades.

“I guess we better head back now,” Gakushuu says, beginning to turn away. Before he can take a step forward, though, Karma grabs hold of his wrist. Glancing back over his shoulder, Gakushuu tilts his head questioningly. “Karma?”

_ It’s been so long. Do I still remember how to do this? I guess there’s only one way to find out. _

Leaping forward, he throws his arms around his brother, crushing his head against Gakushuu’s shoulder, eyes clenched shut. Karma can feel his cheeks burning, but he just squeezes tighter. He doesn’t care if he looks ridiculous; he just wants to hug his big brother. He thinks he’s earned it after so many years without.

Gakushuu is frozen stiff in his arms, hands hanging limply at his sides. After a long, tense silence, he reaches one hand up to pat uncertainly at Karma’s back. “What are you doing?” he asks. His voice trembles.

Karma’s face is still smushed against Gakushuu’s shoulder, but he lifts his head to answer, “ _ Okaa-san  _ said we have to hug after we make up or it doesn’t count.”

“Oh,” he says, more an exhale than a word, so soft Karma struggles to hear even though he’s right next to him. 

Slowly, he winds his arms around Karma, hugging gently, like Karma is something fragile. He hugs like he thinks if he squeezes too hard, Karma will disappear. They’re practically the same height - Gakushuu being only a few centimeters taller - so Karma can’t bury his face in his brother’s chest like he does with Mr. Akabane, but resting his chin on Gakushuu’s shoulder is just as nice. 

They’re not those two beaming boys without a single care in the world anymore. They’ve grown up, each into their own definition of strong, and they’ve learned to use their smiles as both sword and shield. Somehow, though, after every trial and every hardship they endured; after separation and after rivalry, they still end up in the same spot: wrapped in each other’s arms, united against the world.

_ All these years,  _ Karma thinks.  _ All these years I spent wondering about you, you were thinking about me too. Even when I was trampling over every precious memory we shared, you still wanted me back. Even now, after every mocking word I hurled at you, after every time I denied our connection, after I threw the Asano name back in your face - still, you want me at your side. _

_ How can I deny that? _


	2. Gakuhou Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He is still afraid. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to stand before his father without fear choking him, but right now the urge to be seen is stronger than the fear and he lets that desire drive him forward. He won’t stop now. He doesn’t think he could even if wanted to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this chapter is a ride on the angst train but then we’re stopping at fluff station for the next one but then it’s back on the angst train hope y’all got your tickets
> 
> Shoutout to crazybunnyfangirl for kicking my butt into gear with her amazing art so i could get this chapter out on time lol. It was like 60% done last week but i happened to go on tumblr and she made me tear up at my phone so this is for you babe. Please thank her. It prob wouldn't be here if not for her. 
> 
> Also shoutout to all the dads out there who AREN’T giant bags of crap. I appreciate you
> 
> This chapter is so prose heavy lol its prob only 10-15% dialogue which is honestly easier for me to write but i dunno how y'all feel about it.
> 
> But enough of my rambling
> 
> I DO NOT OWN ASSASSINATION CLASSROOM  
> THESE IDEAS ARE MY OWN  
> PLEASE COMMENT AND LEAVE KUDOS :D  
> THANKS FOR READING!

Karma was four years old when his father disappeared. 

He didn’t die, because he still lived in their house. He wasn’t missing, because Karma still saw him every day. He wasn’t a clone or an imposter or whatever childish explanation he and Gakushuu sought those first few months, because he talked like Asano Gakuhou, he walked like Asano Gakuhou, and he excelled in everything like Asano Gakuhou. 

So it wasn’t Asano Gakuhou who disappeared, but Karma and Gakushuu’s father. In his place was a strange man who no longer laughed, no longer looked at his family with anything resembling affection, and seemed dominated by his desire to mold his children into what he considered strong. 

From that point on, Gakuhou took the role of instructor; he was a teacher and Karma and Gakushuu were students. Unlike Korosensei, though, their father did not deal in gentle encouragement and tearful praise. Instead, he wielded stony disapproval as the ultimate weapon to prod them along in their studies. If Karma wanted acknowledgement, he had to earn it. If he wanted praise, he was disappointed. If he wanted love, he was a fool.

Eventually, he stopped looking for signs of the father he remembered and accepted this counterfeit replacement. If this was how things were to be, he would adapt. So he forgot the smiling figure in his childhood who threw him in the air; he forgot the implicit trust he would always be caught and cradled in strong arms; he forgot his father even knew how to smile. 

At least, he would like to forget. He has tried very, very hard to forget, and he thinks he has mostly succeeded. That childish affection he felt for a ghost was squashed, mercilessly and tirelessly, until he no longer felt that pull in his chest every time he heard his father’s name or saw his grim, unsmiling face.

There are two lies Karma has clung to for ten years.

Lie number one: he has forgotten those happy times entirely.

Even now, though, he remembers, in the cloudy memories of distant childhood, a time when his father was warm. He remembers when his father would hold him, would smile at him, would pat his head with the firm affection he’s been chasing ever since it disappeared and was replaced by the distant stranger who took his father’s place. 

Karma has guarded those few, precious memories for years, has packed them away and shoved them deep in the recesses of his mind for safekeeping, because he cannot bear to look at them, the same way his mother could not bear to look at him for so long. It hurt too much. It is far simpler to hate his father for being detached than to remember there was a time when he was not. Maybe someday those happy moments won’t tear him apart anymore, but for now he would rather forget. 

Lie number two: his father never loved him.

This lie is far dearer to him than the other, and far more fragile. He can tolerate, though just barely, the father who ignores his existence, belittled him as a child, and abandoned him without a second thought. What he cannot tolerate is believing his father loved him, in some way and in some time, because he knows that, for some reason, he stopped.

Asano Gakuhou used to love him, and then he stopped, and if Karma acknowledged this he would spend the rest of his life trying to figure out why. Easier to believe the love was never there than to drive himself crazy wondering why it disappeared. Maybe it was his fault. Maybe he just wasn’t good enough, smart enough, strong enough for a father to love. Maybe it was his father’s fault. Maybe, after that tragedy Karma learned about through whispered conversations and screaming arguments, something inside his father broke, and with it his ability to love. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Karma could wonder until the sun grows cold and the oceans freeze and still be no closer to an answer. He’ll never know unless, through some reserve of courage he’s not yet discovered within himself, he asks his father and he, through some uncharacteristic desire to answer honestly, tells him. He knows this will never happen.

The truth is, it doesn’t matter why. For most of his life, Karma has believed his father doesn’t love him. No explanation will soothe that sore. Maybe one day it will scar and he will forget the pain, but for now, he aches. For now, he pretends it has always been so. 

* * *

The second semester finals are over in what feels like the blink of an eye.

“All right, class. Here are the score reports. Let’s see if your second blade managed to hit its target!” With a crack and a flash, Korosensei distributes the exams among the students, reappearing at the front of the room once finished. “This time, let’s not worry about individual numbers of points. Instead we’ll focus on whether you scored in the top fifty!” A chorus of nervous gulps greets his declaration. “Right around now, the overall scoreboard should be posted in the main building.” As he speaks, he retrieves a large sheet of paper, more like a poster, and presses it against the chalkboard. “And now, Class E, I announce to you the rankings!” He unrolls it across the board and everyone holds their breath.

For a minute, the class is silent, eyes flickering across the scoreboard, connecting numbers to names, seeing yet disbelieving. Again, and again, and again they look, checking and double-checking. Starting at number fifty and working their way up, they find each of their classmates’ names boldly printed in black ink, proclaiming their victory for all to see. 

Around him, Karma hears his friends’ gasps and mutterings, their excited words and triumphant cheers, but he sits in his seat in silence, numb to the going-ons around him. His eyes are glued to the numeral attached to his own name, directly at the top of the scoreboard. _Number one, Akabane Karma,_ it states proudly. _Number one, Akabane Karma. Number one. Number one. Number one._

He’s won. After three years, he’s finally won. First place: uncontested, inarguable. No number two mocking him with almosts and not-quites. No bitter taste filling his mouth at the thought of failure. Not even the simple contentment he’d felt after midterms. This is victory, pure and sweet. 

Strange. He thought he’d feel… different. For so long, he’s climbed mountain after mountain for the sole purpose of standing on this peak, and he still feels like the same Karma he’s been all along. Well, he corrects himself, eyes peeling away from the board and glancing around at his celebrating friends, maybe not the _exact_ same. Still, though, he doesn’t suddenly feel smarter, or stronger, or whatever he always thought he’d feel. Mostly, it’s a warm flush of pride, not arrogance or superiority, but a heady feeling of self-satisfaction, of _achievement,_ after a battle well-fought and hard-won. He’s worked for this very goal for three years, and now he’s reached it. He’s proven, one and for all, he isn’t inferior. 

He loves it.

“So, Karma, how does it feel to achieve first place on a high-level battlefield?” asks Korosensei, his ever present grin somehow brighter than usual. “I hear your battle with the always-perfect Asano was decided on the final question of the math test.”

Karma smiles softly towards the ground. “Yeah. I’m not too sure myself, but I think I never could have solved it if I hadn’t spent this year with everyone. That’s the kind of problem it was.”

He doesn’t think he’s ever enjoyed an exam as much as this one. Of course, that may just have been the absence of his crippling anxiety and desperation, but it feels like more than that. He hadn’t been fighting Gakushuu to beat him; he’d just been fighting to _win._ Maybe that difference would seem small to others, but to him it was everything. He and Gakushuu had given everything they had this time around, and Karma had come out on top. Not because he’d studied harder, or because he’s inherently better, or even because he’d been more focused. No, he knows without doubt he reached his goal because he relied on his friends, his family, and his teacher. That, coupled with his own perseverance and grueling effort, raised him just a fraction higher than his brother. 

He’s totally going to rub that in his big brother’s face as soon as possible. Maybe demand Gakushuu treat him to ice cream? All while crowing about his victory and providing mocking sympathy, of course. He thinks he’s earned it.

He grins widely at his classmates and joins the celebration.

* * *

Later, after they’ve all calmed down and the high of victory has worn off, they retake their seats and fix their attention back on Korosensei.

“Well, everyone,” he says, tentacles wrapped around a cup of tea, ”you’ve all earned the right to leave Class E. But do any of you still want to actually leave this mountain?” The twinkle in his eye shows he already knows their answer.

“Of course not!” Maehara denies, grinning widely as he brandishes his anti-Korosensei blade. Others chime in their agreements, while some choose to let loose a barrage of anti-sensei BBs as their answer. 

Korosensei chortles to himself while taking a sip of his tea. “I see you’ve all chosen the thorny path. And as a reward, I shall now tell you another one of my weakne-”

He is cut off by the building literally crashing down around them.

Cries of fear and confusion sound in the chaos. Students leap away from their desks. Half of Class E is now rubble, and through the window Asano Gakuhou can be seen standing outside, hands folded behind his back, unbothered by the impromptu demolition. 

Just like that, the spark of joy he’s carried inside is doused in cold water. Where he had been untouchable only moments before, he is now frozen, speechless and afraid. Ever since the divorce, he and his father have lived in two separate worlds. They spend most days on the same campus together, but they might as well be galaxies away. Class E may have been technically located in his father’s domain, but it has always been a safe place, _his_ safe place - his own little haven. His father could not touch him here.

Until now, apparently.

“Please prepare to leave,” says his father, somehow managing to smile at their outrage. “You’ll be moved to the new building for the escalator school that’s opening next year. Please be sure to cooperate with the regular performance tests until graduation.” He continues, but at this point Karma can’t make out the words over the frantic buzzing in his ears.

He melts quietly into the background. Standing behind Terasaka, ducking slightly so his hair doesn’t peek over the other boy’s shoulder, he closes his eyes and tries to breathe.

Breathe in. _1, 2, 3, 4._ Breathe out. _1, 2, 3, 4._ Breathe in. _1, 2, 3, 4._ Breathe out. _1, 2, 3, 4._ Over and over until his lungs remember how to function on their own.

Someone jostles his shoulder, snapping him from his silent panic. He opens his eyes. Sugino stands beside him, his shoulder pressed firmly against Karma’s own. Nagisa and Kayano stand on his other side, the three of them forming a protective barrier around him, shielding him from view and offering what support they can amidst the chaos. He reaches out, squeezes Sugino’s arm gratefully, and is met with a smile and a nod.

Everyone is moving suddenly, headed out the door and into the yard, gathering around the windows of Class E. He and his group pick a spot at the very end, Karma hiding mostly behind the wall, just barely peeking out. The sight of his father standing with Korosensei inside the abandoned classroom shocks him, but not so badly as his initial appearance had. Karma tunes back into the conversation around him.

“Now then, Korosensei,” his father is saying, every word layered in condescension as he circles a ring of desks menacingly, “if you wish to keep your job and keep watching over this class, then let’s do a little gambling.” Every word is calculated; every movement a carefully concocted threat. Not one hair on his father’s head is out of place as he lays out his assassination.

So this is what Gakushuu has been imitating.

The class is left to watch in slow-mounting horror as his father details his plan: four anti-sensei grenades, one regular grenade, five textbooks, and an impossible time limit. It’s Russian roulette, Korosensei style. Karma would be impressed if he wasn’t already filled with rage.

He knows the odds. He’d calculated them before his father even asked Terasaka to do the same. Karma knows the numbers are against Korosensei, and judging by the sweat beading on his classmates’ faces, they know it too. Still, Karma has faith. The odds have never stopped Korosensei before. 

Months ago, his teacher told him his father has faced failure before. He hadn’t believed him then. Who could be strong enough to defeat Asano Gakuhou? Now, though, if Karma had to choose, he’d put all his money on Korosensei. If anyone could beat his father, surely the super-powered octopus stood the best chance?

Of course, as soon as the first grenade explodes in Korosensei’s face, blowing gaping wounds across his body and forcing those in the front to duck away from the blast, fear shoots up like weeds around his faith, threatening to choke it. 

He can feel his breath quickening. He’s one step away from hyperventilation. It is only Sugino’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing bruises with his grip, that keeps him grounded. Karma takes a deep breath, holds it, and lets it out in a long, noiseless sigh. How many times has Sugino saved him from panic today? He vows to treat the boy to something nice as soon as possible. He obviously deserves it.

“First one is a hit,” his father says, smiling. “Just withstand three more of those, and you win. Now, solve the next one before you regenerate.”

Karma hates, hates, _hates_ him then, more than he ever has in his entire life. It’s just like his father to destroy the only thing that’s made him happy in years, the first person to really, truly believe in him and his ability to excel and who actually _pushes_ him to do so. Mr. Akabane may have believed in him, but he hadn’t pushed. Korosensei believed, and pushed, and now his father is trying to take him away in the most underhanded way possible.

The students all try to protest, angry voices yelling and accusing, but his father dismisses them all with more talk of his stupid ideals.

“Dude,” Sugino mutters under his breath, quiet enough that only Karma can hear, “I really hate your dad.”

“Same,” Karma whispers back. 

As Korosensei prepares to open the next textbook under the watchful smirk of Karma’s father, Karma reaches out with both hands, one grasping onto Sugino, the other onto Nagisa, and squeezes as tight as he can. They reach back, and then all three are holding on for dear life, each of them thinking the same thing.

_Please make it through this. Please don’t die._

Before they can blink, Korosensei opens the textbook, solves the problem, and closes it again - all without a peep from the grenade now safely enclosed in the pages of the book. Relief floods Karma’s veins like ice.

For the first time, surprise colors his father’s face. 

“There. Open, solved, and closed,” Korosensei announces. “In this workbook series, I’ve memorized just about every problem on every page. The only hard part was the math. I lent it to the students for a while, so I forgot how to do that one.”

“You just happened to have memorized the specific workbooks I brought with me?” asks Gakuhou disbelievingly.

“Oh, no,” Korosensei denies. “See, I’ve memorized all of the workbooks in _Japan._ I figured I should at least put in that much effort if I wanted to be a teacher.” He moves on to the next desk. “The rule was that I couldn’t step away from the grenades until the problems were solved, so a passionate teacher would be able to clear the challenge. I thought for sure that you, of all people, would understand me, but unfortunately-” and he doesn’t even pause his speech as he solves the next problem “-it seems that seeing the defeat of your students has disturbed your mind.” 

In a flash, Korosensei finishes his last book. Class E breathes a collective sigh of relief, but Karma is still tense, still watching with bated breath. This isn’t over yet.

“You sealed your own fate by trying to take the easy assassination route,” Korosensei says calmly. “Only one workbook left. Your turn.” 

All eyes are fixed on Gakuhou’s stricken face.

“So how does it feel,” Korosensei asks, “to have your life flash before your eyes? Can you see the Grim Reaper’s lantern yet? What’s going on in your perfect little head, moments before death, hmm?”

Karma echoes the question in his own head. _Otou-san. . . what do you see? Aniki? Okaa-san? Me? Or is it still that boy who caused all of this? Is he still the only one capable of breaking your heart?_

“So, director Asano, will you open the book?” prods Korosensei. “As excellent as you may be, even you can’t open a book with a grenade and escape unscathed.”

Yoshida calls out a taunt, but immediately quiets when faced with his father’s death glare. Still, his classmates all voice their firm resolve to learn from Korosensei and continue assassinating him until March, even if it means leaving Class E. Karma agrees with them, of course, but he can’t find the mental capacity to say so. He’s still waiting for what’s about to come.

He looks on, surprised yet unsurprised, as his father spouts some nonsense about his educational philosophy. He intends to open the book. Karma knows this the same as he knows his own name; it is plain, undeniable fact. His father is going to open the book with full belief it will kill him, and all for the sake of his stupid, _pointless_ ideals.

Karma knows he won’t die. If Korosensei is predictable in anything, it’s in his determination to leave his would-be assassins better off than they were before. That was proven again and again with Itona, with Nagisa, with Bitch- _sensei,_ with Karma himself. His teacher will not allow his father to be blown to bits by his own hand. Karma knows this, but Gakuhou does not. 

_Do you even care about who you’ll leave behind?_ he wants to scream. _What about Gakushuu? Is he someone you can abandon as easily as that? You may have forgotten me, but isn’t your perfect son worth more than this?_

His friends aren’t watching the tragedy unfolding before their eyes; their attention is fixed solely on him. Karma realizes, distantly, they must be worried about him - after all, they’re about to watch his father try to blow himself up. But that realization seems so far away now. Every time he tries to grab it, to pull it close and bask in its warmth, it slips through his fingers - again and again and again. He can’t concentrate on the concern so clearly etched on their faces; he can’t even sort out the confused jumble of his own emotions. All he can do is watch, blank-faced, as his father ( _his_ _father, that’s his father, that’s the man who raised him who held him who smiled at him who killed him killed him killed him)_ opens the textbook. 

It explodes in his face, and Karma can’t remember how to breathe. Doubt creeps in as the silence stretches, his own imagination providing lurid descriptions of what he’ll see when the dust settles - his father’s charred remains, perhaps, or a bleeding and broken corpse, recognizable but even more horrific for it. Korosensei had been an assassin, after all. Who’s to say old habits die so easily? Why should he have saved a man who’s caused them all such grief, who even now is trying to wreck their last months of happiness?

Sense tries to establish itself again, screaming in his head that he knows better, knows Korosensei better. His teacher has grown right along with them this year, and those acts of cruelty are behind him now. He would realize this if he would only _get a grip!_

Sense and doubt grapple for dominance, and Karma waits, heart racing, for the victor to be revealed.

_What happened? What’s going on? Korosensei, did you save him? Did you kill him? Is he. . . is he. . .?_

The dreadful paralysis lasts only until the smoke clears from the classroom and he sees his father collapsed on the floor, wrapped in Korosensei’s protective membrane, unscathed.

Korosensei had saved his father from his own schemes, just as Karma believed he would. Karma lets out a breath, only just realizing he’s been holding it the whole time. His fingers, which had been digging crescents into the flesh of his hands, relax. His father is alive, for better or for worse. 

Still, the glaring similarities between his father’s assassination attempt and his own all those months ago rankle. They both chose methods that left them staring death in the face and ended with Korosensei - the very person they were trying to kill - saving them. The parallels between father and son left Karma torn between pride and disgust. 

So caught up in his thoughts, he barely hears Korosensei speaking until he announces his own teaching philosophy is identical to what his father’s had been ten years ago.

Karma had known this, of course, if only distantly. His father used to be kind, until he wasn’t. It’s not a huge leap to assume that, if his father had been different, then so too were his teaching methods. But Karma hadn’t been old enough to be considered his father’s student back when he was still warm and _whole._ He’d just been a little kid. Gakuhou has always been a harsh teacher to him, and he’d never known what he’d been like as an instructor before.

So to hear now that Korosensei, with his praise and his encouragement and his steady determination to better his students, is what his father had been _hurts._

He could’ve had that.

He listens, numb to the core, as his father justifies his methods once more. Karma realizes what is about to happen, and he hates it. His father will walk out the door of Class E, maybe with a slight change of heart, but with no outward remorse for all the hurt he’s inflicted for years in the name of making his chosen students _strong._ There will be no repentance, no apology, no acknowledgement of the family he tore apart in the name of his ideals.

Karma will not stand for that. He did not suffer and struggle and strive for his father’s recognition to be written off as just another chapter in his tragic backstory. 

_That can’t be it,_ he thinks. _It can’t! He’s still refusing to acknowledge his failures. He still thinks he’s infallible. That’s not fair! He’s supposed to see his ideals crumbling around him - not writing this off as another fulfillment of them! I won’t allow it. I won’t allow it! He needs to know the crushing agony of being totally, indisputably wrong._

_What better way than to see the victory of the son he threw away all those years ago?_

So, for the first time in five years, Karma opens his mouth and speaks to the father who forgot him.

“You know,” he says, and the levelness of his voice surprises even him. “For a final boss, your assassination was pretty lame.” He leans forward, crossing his arms atop the window frame. To any onlooker, it’s a lazy sprawl, confident and secure. To him, it’s something to support his shaking legs.

Karma watches, heart thundering in his chest, as his father freezes in place halfway to the door. He doesn’t turn around, and all Karma can see of him is the tense line of his shoulders through his pristine suit. His eyes narrow. 

He will not be ignored. Not this time.

His tongue is like sandpaper in his mouth, but he forces it to form his next words. “Really, all you managed to do was make Korosensei lose his molt, but Nagisa did that ages ago, _without_ resorting to blackmail,” he tacks on snidely.

Even now, his father does not turn to face him. His reaction to Karma’s first taunt proved he recognized his son’s voice, but he still stands as a statue, neither moving forward nor turning around. Karma wonders how many bladed words he will have to throw before one pierces his father’s armor.

He doesn’t mind finding out.

“And if you think you get bonus points because you were willing to die for it, well,” he scoffs, loud and heavy with disdain, “you should know someone else was too. Your plan wasn’t unique at all. But hey,” he says, and his smirk slashes across his face with the same deadly promise as any assassin’s blade, “like father, like son, right?”

Class E, which had been celebrating another victory only moments before, is now still and silent as a corpse. If a pin dropped, Karma knows he would hear it the same as he would a felled tree. His classmates are holding their breath, stunned at his remark, though whether they’ve connected the dots yet he doesn’t know. It’s fine if they haven’t. Karma plans to keep hammering away until the truth is nailed so firmly in place no one will be able to deny his parentage, not even the father who’s tried for all these years to do so.

These words prove to be the correct ones, because it is only after he’s spoken them (well, _flung with a heaping pile of scorn_ would probably be the more accurate term) that his father turns.

Karma has seen Asano Gakuhou since he’s come to Kunugigaoka, but this is the closest they have been in five years. Just as he’d been breathless at his first face-to-face sight of Gakushuu, he feels the same mixture of shock and sick fascination now as he did then. 

_This is the face,_ he thinks to himself as he studies his father’s every feature. _This is the face okaa-san hates so much. This is the face that made me so unbearable to her. This is what drove her away from me._

In his most vivid memories, Asano Sr.’s face is always blank, expressionless, or stern with disapproval. What he sees now is, while not exactly the opposite of his memories, still not anywhere near them. His father’s eyes, always so cold, are now blown wide in shock. Karma would like to say his jaw hung open or something equally ridiculous, but if anything Gakuhou’s teeth seemed clenched to the point of pain. 

“. . .Karma?” asks Gakuhou, hesitant, like he can’t believe his own eyes.

Karma has, for once in his life, completely caught his father by surprise. The achievement thrills him.

The corners of his mouth quirk up to form a smile void of humor. “In the flesh.” He watches his father as he seems to be searching for his next words, but before he finds them Karma speaks again. 

He has no interest in whatever Gakuhou has to say.

“Y’know,” he says, and though he tries to pitch his words in his usual mocking lilt, they come out flat instead. “When I first enrolled I thought maybe you would realize I was here from my paperwork or something. But judging by that stupid look on your face, you didn’t.” He laughs and, just like his smile, it is devoid of mirth. “Guess even the board chairman can’t keep track of every student, huh?”

His father is still staring at him, but his expression has lost the shocked edge. Instead, just as Karma was doing moments before, he seems to be drinking in every detail of Karma’s face - studying him with the same intensity Karma has seen in his own eyes every time he looks at his reflection.

Another similarity between them; another unwanted trait his father has passed on.

“Karma,” Gakuhou says again, rolling the word around in his mouth experimentally, like he’s savoring it. “I suppose you are the Akabane who placed first in the finals?”

_That’s still all you care about?!_ He wants to scream, but he knows a hysterical burst of emotion is the last thing he needs here. This isn’t Gakushuu, who can take his honesty and reciprocate with his own. This isn’t _oyaji,_ who respects even his ugly emotions and is willing to hear him without complaint or argument. This is his father, an enemy not to be trusted, and his every word must be chosen carefully, _carefully,_ or he will be torn apart.

Karma has been in less danger facing actual assassins.

“Yeah,” he answers, that fake smirk still plastered to his face. “Though I have to ask, is it my rank you’re surprised about or my name?”

His father’s lips purse into a thin line of irritation. The expression is so familiar Karma almost wants to cry. “I see,” is all he says, completely ignoring the rest. “Congratulations.”

His mind, which had been whirring at top speed only moments before, comes crashing to a halt. He is overcome with relief that he cannot see his own face because he’s sure whatever expression he’s wearing looks ridiculous. Of all the things his father could have responded with, that was probably the least likely thing Karma would have guessed. _Congratulations?_ he thinks incredulously. _Congratulations?! Has he lost his MIND? He’s supposed to be furious, pissed off, enraged! I beat his golden child! Does it matter so little? Is he really that indifferent?_

He really should say thank you - as condescending and insincere as he can - but the words stick in his throat and refuse to budge. He has nothing to thank him for. One small word of praise, which Karma still isn’t sure is honest, doesn’t wipe the slate clean. If anything, it adds more fuel to the fire. 

So, of course, he chooses to escalate instead.

“Yeah,” he drawls out. “It was a cinch. Dunno why all your precious Class A zombies had such a rough time with it. I hear they all bombed their exams. Didn’t they have some special teacher giving them lessons? I would fire him if I were you.” He grins, teeth bared in a facsimile of a smile at his facsimile of a father. “He sounds pretty incompetent. Can you imagine failing to such a degree? I bet their parents will be outraged. After all, they spent all that money to send their kids to the _best school_ for some blundering halfwit to tank their kids’ grades. What a scandal.” 

Finally, a spark of anger appears in Gakuhou’s eyes. He manages to bite back the retort clearly on the tip of his tongue, though just barely and much to Karma’s disappointment. He works his jaw quietly, eye twitching, as he chooses his next words with the same care Karma had. “Yes, well, I’m sure the school will handle any complaints parents may have. It’s nothing for you to worry about. I’m more interested in what you’re doing here, actually.”

“Here as in Kunugigaoka, or here as in Class E?”

“Both.”

“Well, gee, pops,” he says, as sarcastically as he can manage. “I heard this was such a great school and just had to go here. My mom wasn’t too sure about it, but my old man convinced her.” _There!_ Karma revels in his triumph. It was subtle, barely a twitch, but he’d been watching, and he’d seen the flare of emotion in his father’s eyes when he mentioned his mother and stepfather. The smile on his face grows as he continues. “As for Class E, I got in a little trouble last year. Apparently sending some kids to the hospital violates your behavior policy, so long as it’s not a Class E student. So here I am!” He spreads his arms wide, and the grin he wears stretches so wide it aches. 

His father blinks, but that’s the only giveaway to his surprise. He opens his mouth, about to speak, but someone hidden in the crowd coughs and just like that the spell ensnaring them is broken. Karma flicks his eyes around, meets the wide-eyed stares of his classmates, and remembers he has an audience. His father seems to realize the same because his expression - not that it was exactly open to begin with - shutters closed. Just like that, Karma is faced with the stony-faced man who haunted his childhood. Whatever thrill he felt from finally confronting him vanishes.

He never meant to do this in front of them. He never meant to do it at all. 

“I should go,” his father says abruptly. He won’t meet Karma’s eyes, and doesn’t that sting like a thorn in his heart? He didn’t realize Gakuhou inherited his mother’s bad habit too.

“As long as you don’t come back,” Karma spits, his anger spilling out before he can wrangle it into submission.

Gakuhou nods once before spinning on his heel and turning away, clearly anxious to leave but unwilling to show it.

For a second, Karma wants to call him back. That one slip of genuine emotion was enough to dredge up all his old hurt, and now he _burns._ Words are crawling up his throat, suffocating in their number and howling to be set free. Their weight is staggering, and Karma is so, so tired from this one-sided battle that has raged for so many years, of stifling the hurt and the blame and the accusations as they piled higher and higher until even he can't reach the top. He has accumulated resentment like water behind a dam, but now the dam is leaking, small drops squeezing between the cracks in his walls, threatening to bring the whole thing crashing down and drown everyone in its wake. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice is urging him on. It’s howling at him to hurt Gakuhou the same way he’d hurt Karma, to grind him to dust under his heel as he laughs. He wants to listen to it. He wants to drop his iron control on his emotions and hurl every insulting word he knows at Gakuhou. He could force his father to acknowledge the hand he played in the broken pieces of Karma’s heart. He knows exactly which words would cut deepest, which ones would slice through flesh and bone and leave lasting scars. He has always been so good at that, and now he could use it on the person he’s been both chasing and hating most of his life.

He could make his father see him. 

But, to both his surprise and amusement, he doesn’t want to. After years of imagining what it would be like to confront his father, he finds he has no interest in revealing so much of himself to him. The idea of ripping out his heart and offering it up to Gakuhou - even for the purpose of shaming him - is suddenly repulsive. 

His father does not deserve it. He has spent the last year fighting through his every anxiety and every fear, all for the sake of being able to share himself - his real, true self - with his friends. They have been by his side through everything, and even now they stand beside him, ready to offer what support they can, ready to stand against even the board chairman for Karma’s sake.

His friends deserve his honesty. The man before him does not.

He has a dad, and he has a teacher. The man in front of him has nothing to offer that Karma needs or, he realizes, that he wants. For so long, he’s been chasing after acknowledgement, after recognition, after just a single word of praise, but now he knows that was never what he wanted. He’d wanted the ice behind his father’s eyes to melt, if only for a brief moment, and to see that warm glow of pride, of _affection,_ he’s been craving ever since he saw it as a young child on the face of a father who was not his own.

He’d wanted love. It is only now he realizes he has always had it - just not from the person he’d been seeking it from. His stepfather’s face flashes in his mind, warm and bright and open. His stepfather, who’s acknowledged his wrongs and repented for them, who’s stood up to his mother for him, who treats Karma like he’s important, even when his own blood doesn’t. His stepfather has freely said, with no strings attached, that he loves Karma. His father hasn’t bothered to say that to him since he was four years old.

_You are my blood,_ he tells the rigid line of Gakuhou’s back. _I can’t deny that and neither can you. But it takes more than blood to be a good father, and you’ve proven time and time again you don’t care to be one. This is not on me. Maybe someday we can be more than strangers who share DNA, but I won’t wait around for you and I won’t cry for you. Goodbye._

He watches in silence as his father exits the room, the building, the mountain, and reminds his lungs how to breathe. Still, not everything is finished. The final boss has been defeated, but now he’s faced with the aftermath. His classmates are still staring at him, obviously awaiting an explanation. His tongue, which had served him so faithfully in the cold war between him and his father, now feels twisted and heavy in his mouth. He can’t think of a single thing to make this situation better. He can barely think at all.

He opens his mouth to try anyway, but Sugino ( _bless him,_ Karma thinks, fervently and without mockery) beats him to the punch.

“So, Karma’s dad is actually the board chairman,” he says very loudly, like that is new information and not already obvious. “Which sucks majorly for him, and we’re not going to bother him about it. If you want to pick on him about something, let it be his fashion sense.”

“Hey!” he blurts out reflexively. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

Sugino levels him a flat look of supreme disappointment. “Dude. I’ve been to your house. I’ve seen your closet. Don’t make me embarrass you.”

Karma puffs his cheeks in annoyance but says nothing. He won’t dignify that with a response. So what if his mother, brother, and all of his friends have made looks of pain and consternation at some of the things he’s worn? They obviously have no taste.

Class E is still looking at him with some mixture of fascination and suspicion when, of all people, Hazama breaks the silence.

“Pay up, Terasaka,” she says, turning to face the boy with her hand open and outstretched. 

Terasaka grumbles under his breath and shoots Karma a dirty look, but he digs out a wad of yen from his pocket and hands it over. Hazama counts it, nods, and pockets it, completely ignoring the befuddled looks several students are giving her.

“Uh, what’s going on?” Isogai asks.

“Terasaka lost a bet,” she says, which answers nothing.

“What kind of bet?”

“I told Terasaka I thought Karma was secretly related to the chairman, but Terasaka thought that was stupid. So I bet him ¥5000 he was, and he took it.” She says it all so matter-of-factly it takes a minute for it to sink in.

“You _knew?”_

“You _bet_ on it?”

“You didn’t cut me in?”

They all turn to Kayano, who, realizing what she said, smiles beatifically. Karma elects to ignore that and come back to it later.

“It was kind of obvious,” Hazama says, rolling her eyes. She begins to list things on her fingers, counting them off one by one. “He’s mentioned a _step-_ father, they have the same facial structure and similar hair and eyes, his stupid love/hate rivalry with Asano, his overabundance of daddy issues, plus that whole disappearing act he pulls whenever the chairman shows up.” She raises an eyebrow. “Need I go on?”

The class as a whole nods to themselves, mumbling _oh yes that makes sense,_ like they’d put it together themselves and not had it laid out piece by piece by Hazama. Karma grits his teeth, mind still circling around _overabundance of daddy issues._ He manages to take a deep breath and let it go, but just barely.

“Thank you for analyzing me and my entire life,” he says loudly. She only nods blankly in return, so he isn’t sure how much of his sarcasm came across. “Are we all satisfied now? Do I need to explain anything else about my personal life?”

“Are you and Asano twins?” someone calls out. He isn’t sure who. Maybe Maehara.

“No,” he says, biting his lip before admitting, “He’s a year older.”

The class, after taking a moment to process this, bursts into noise.

“Oooh, little baby Karma!” someone coos, and Karma vows bloodshed against whoever it is. He’ll find out. 

“That explains so much about your dynamic,” Takebayashi nods to himself, and Karma vows bloodshed against him too.

Several others chime in with their opinions or irritating comments. Karma gives up vowing bloodshed because at this point he’ll have to assassinate the entire class, and that is not conducive to world-saving. So he grits his teeth and bears it, but his eyes scream murder the whole time. That probably only eggs them on further, though, the absolute freaks.

_I hate them. I hate them all so much._ He ignores how much that sounds like a lie even in his own head. At least there’s no one to call him out there.

Eventually everyone calms down and Karasuma restores some order to the class. The matter of his family is dropped, for now, and they focus instead on the gaping hole in their building. They find an old tarp in the storage shed and manage to cover it, but it’s like sticking a bandaid on a bullet wound. It’ll keep the rain out, but not much else.

When they’re finished, Karasuma- _sensei_ sighs. “Just go home. We’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

No one asks about assassin training. After studying nonstop for weeks, plus the grueling exams, they’re all eager for a break. Assassination, like the hole, can wait a day. 

* * *

“ _Oyaji_?” calls Karma as he steps through the front door, shutting it behind him.

“In the kitchen!” his stepfather answers. 

Setting his bag down, he toes off his shoes and slides into his slippers. One finished, he stands in the entryway, shuffling nervously, before finally sighing and going to meet his stepfather in the kitchen.

“Hey, Karma!” says Mr. Akabane. “Your mom’s out running errands, but she should be back soon. You wanna help me with this?” He gestures to the pile of assorted meats and vegetables on the counter. “I thought we’d have hot pot tonight, but I could use a hand with slicing everything.”

“Sure,” he agrees. After washing his hands and grabbing a knife, he joins his stepfather at the counter, the only sound the steady _chop-chop-chop_ of their knives on the cutting board.

It is several long minutes before Mr. Akabane breaks the silence.

“So,” he says, clearly trying for casual, but Karma can see how tense he is from the corner of his eye. “Did you get your exams back today?”

His eyes stay fixed on the vegetable he’s slicing into thin strips. “Yep.”

“Oh, good. That’s good.” More cutting noises. “How did you do?”

“Pretty good,” he says. His stepfather hums inquisitively, obviously wanting more details - wanting, but not demanding. Karma decides to stop teasing him. “I got a perfect score.”

He watches Mr. Akabane’s hand fall slack against the counter, the knife slipping from his fingers. Karma sighs, puts down his own knife, and waits for the inevitable.

“Karma!” his stepfather cries, and when he looks up there are already tears welling in Mr. Akabane’s eyes. He throws his arms out and captures Karma in a bearhug. “This is so great! A perfect score in such a prestigious school! And you said these exams would be more difficult than the others! I’m so proud of you! We have to celebrate!” Even as he’s babbling so enthusiastically, he never stops hugging Karma, practically swinging him around in his excitement.

Karma laughs, his own arms wrapped around his stepfather. When he finally stops swinging Karma around, he begins to plan in rapid-fire ( _cake - no, we’re having cake for your birthday. Ice cream! No, it’s too cold for ice cream. But oh, Karma, you should obviously pick. What sounds good to you? Do you want cake or ice cream or something else? Anything you want! Hey, where’s your papers? We need to hang them on the fridge! I have some magnets around here somewhe-)._

“ _Oyaji_ ,” he interrupts, and Mr. Akabane pauses in his chattering to listen. He has always done that, Karma realizes. He has always treated Karma like he is important, like his words _matter,_ even when he didn’t agree. 

Karma feels a burst of affection so strong it hurts. 

“ _Oyaji_ ,” he says again, “I love you.”

His stepfather bursts into a new wave of tears and wraps him in a hug again. 

Maybe he isn't enough for his own father, but Mr. Akabane thinks he's enough, and Karma will love him for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “But Gail!” you protest. “Gakuhou even had Nagisa’s and Terasaka’s names memorized! Surely he would’ve known Karma was in Class E! And wouldn’t he have known what he was suspended for too? That’s illogical!”
> 
> To which I respond by placing both my hands on your cheeks and smiling, whispering, “Shh, it’s plot shield.”
> 
> Anyway I’ve been preparing for this chapter for 3 damn years so it better be good yall or i might just burrow into a hole and never come out
> 
> You think i'm kidding but i'm not
> 
> This was one of the first scenes i fleshed out in my head when i started building this au. Ive worked and reworked it so many times i can’t feel the emotion anymore but i still love it. Its actually very different from what i originally planned. In the og version i thought Karma would be pretty hysterical like screaming at his dad and maybe crying, point out all his flaws and all the ways he messed up and basically not allowing Gakuhou to say a word. Obviously i thought that wouldn't work in the end. Karma is such a private controlled person and i genuinely don't think he’d reveal so much of himself to someone who is essentially a stranger, even if he’s been living with the ghost of that stranger all his life. He and Gakuhou don’t have the same rapport he has with Gakushuu, Mr Akabane, or heck even his mom. Gakuhou has a long way to go before he can be privy to his son's thoughts. Karma isn't just going to spill his deepest emotions in the lap of someone who hasn't proven they're worthy of them. Gakushuu has proven he is. Mr Akabane has proven he is. His mom is eh getting there. But Gakuhou? Hell nah. So i chose to make Karma snide and in control bc his mental health is better at this point so no freakouts like he had at the baseball match. It feels pretty satisfying to me but let me know in the comments if you expected/wanted something different. I'm curious how y'all thought this would go down lol. 
> 
> Also yes I could've written all the build-up to finals and that little confrontation with Gakushuu asking them to assassinate Gakuhou but y'know I didn't really think it was necessary? I wouldn't have changed anything, and I didn't really want to write the whole finals thingy plus the studying bc this chapter is already 7.6k words. Besides, haven't I written about exams enough times? You'll be fine lol
> 
> NEXT CHAPTER: Interlude: Birthday Time

**Author's Note:**

> So? So? Was it worth it? Did I hit all your feels? I was kinda worried bc y'all have had like, 3 straight chapters of brotherly feels, but eh. It had to be that way. Honestly I've read, reread, and rewritten this so many times it kinda feels flat to me, but whatever.
> 
> NEXT CHAPTER: Gakuhou Time


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